We accidentally met in the dairy section of the local food store.
He was a stranger but the first thing I noticed was his kind face. Perhaps a little older than mine, but at a certain age, it’s hard to tell.
We did that familiar dance people do when both are hovering over similar items on the grocery shelves. In this case it was coffee creamer. There were a variety of advertised prices, and like me, he didn’t care what brand would go in his cart. He just wanted to make sure he was getting the best possible deal.
Buy two of the smaller bottles, both of which were on sale if purchasing multiples. Or go for the bigger containers which offered that same deal, and by mathematical calculations, would be the smarter choice. But that would also mean spending more money when he arrived at the checkout counter.
All of which we discussed in those few moments as he was thinking about returning the bottles he’d already chosen, while I debated which way to go as well.
It was an interesting exchange, in part because this stranger and I spent so much time mulling over the better price choice. But he also revealed a feeling that, deep down, I shared.
“I hate coming here. Every time I go to the grocery store I get angry,” he said. “I certainly don’t take it out on those working here. … It’s not their fault. But I am not a happy person by the time I leave.”
This soft-spoken stranger made the comment not in anger but in resignation.
No one wants to feel as if they are losing ground economically, especially as they grow older. For many of us, particularly those on fixed incomes, frustration at the grocery store is a stark reminder we are paying far more for a cart of groceries these days while incomes have not kept pace.
That’s not a pleasant place to be.
Unfortunately, the grocery store is where inflation feels personal. Economic statistics are not nearly as tangible as a pound of hamburger or a box of cereal. Or in this instance, a container of coffee creamer.
I had no idea what this man’s financial situation was, and I certainly don’t know his political persuasion. But one thing was clear: Rising costs are leaving more people feeling the pinch. And my conversation with this man is perhaps what made me more aware of a couple of senior shoppers I encountered that same day in the aisles of a nearby dollar store.
Both had their carts mostly filled with food items, which reflects another trend we are reading about: deep-discount retailers expanding their food items as the cost of groceries continues to rise.
Costco might be cheaper ounce for ounce. But for those relying on Social Security or fixed retirement income, the dollar stores are popular because they offer smaller package sizes with lower upfront costs, as well as inexpensive canned goods, pastas, snacks and frozen meals.
Unfortunately, the price of food has created a ripple effect that extends beyond the checkout line. While you and I might be frustrated as we stroll through grocery aisles, local food pantries are seeing first-hand the toll this is taking.
The Aurora Area Interfaith Food Pantry’s budget for the upcoming fiscal year, which begins Aug. 1, is three times more than what it was this year, “mostly due to the funding cuts to food banks and the skyrocketing cost of groceries,” Executive Director Katie Arko told me.
“No one,” she added, “is immune to the impact of staple grocery items costing more than twice what they did just two years ago, in some cases.”
In response, Interfaith has expanded its deliveries to low-income senior housing complexes through the Fox Valley, and has helped a few other centers set up their own free pantries. Also, home deliveries have been expanded from about 40 households a week to nearly 200. And this month the pantry is launching a mobile program, made possible through funding secured by U.S. Sen. Dick Durbin, D-Illinois.
Likewise, the Marie Wilkinson Food Pantry in Aurora is now serving 2,700 families a week, up significantly from 700-800 a couple years ago, according to Executive Director Annette Johnson.
That uptick is partly the result of more satellite pantries, “but even without the new programs, we’d be assisting about 2,200 a week,” she said.
“The economy has shifted. We hear so many stories … there are 10 different reasons they are looking for help.”
Only that morning, Johnson told me when we spoke recently, “an older woman showed up at the door who literally had no food in the fridge.”
Her husband was in hospice “and they were running low on funds,” she said, noting that even though it was a non-distribution day, “we turn no one away.”
Johnson wants people to know there’s nothing wrong with receiving help at times like this.
“Everything costs so much more,” she noted, and “if you can stock up on good food at the pantry, that frees up dollars for other concerns,” such as utilities or transportation costs.
“This is why we are here … to help.”
Her words took me back to the stranger in the grocery store. His frustration was not so much about the price of coffee creamer as it was the relentless math many households are doing these days to stay on top of inflation.
As we parted – both of us chose the smaller bottles to save a few bucks on this trip to the supermarket – he turned to me with a final comment: “Don’t get me started on how I feel when I go to the gas station,” he said, then wished me “a very good day.”
dcrosby@tribpub.com
Dining and Cooking